Satisfied
by foolofatook001
Summary: In which there is a ball, a sacrifice, and a wedding. "Who Killed Markiplier" oneshot with Celine, Damien, the Colonel, and Mark. Based off the song "Satisfied" from Hamilton.


**A/N: **This is a oneshot based off of the song "Satisfied" from _Hamilton_, though you don't need to know the song to read this piece. I just couldn't get away from "Who Killed Markiplier?" and this was the result. This is a sort of companion to my story "WKM?: Origins" but again, you don't necessarily have to read that to get this one.

Also a note: all characters referred to are the _characters_ from "Who Killed Markiplier?", not the YouTubers. Just so we're clear.

So here's this thing. (_shrugs_) Tell me what you think?

Bonus points if you find the two not-so-hidden historical figures.

* * *

Will was unsure as to why he'd ever agreed to come to this party. He hadn't seen anyone he knew but Damien and Mark, and they didn't even have any good drinks. He trailed after his two friends, uncomfortable in his new suit.

And then he saw her. It was Celine, but not as he was used to seeing her, in muted colors and little-girl outfits - no, this Celine was a beautiful woman in a striking red dress and pearls glowing at her throat, a sparkling smile on her face. Will was enchanted. He'd inadvertently taken a few steps toward her before his brain caught up with his feet. Those steps had taken him close enough for her to see him, however, and she caught his eye and waved, crossing over to him.

"Hello, Will! I didn't realize you were going to be here," she said playfully, smiling at him.

"I - I wasn't really planning on it myself, Damien and Mark made me," he said, trying not to stumble over his words and still failing.

Celine laughed. "Oh, poor Will, he has to go to parties all the time," she teased. "It must be so difficult."

"Not when my friends are here," he said. There. That sounded normal, didn't it? The music changed. "Would you like to dance?" Will asked without thinking, then started cursing mentally. _Stupid, stupid, stupid -_

"Of course," Celine said, taking his arm and pulling him on the dance floor when he simply stared at her in shock. She set her hand on his shoulder and smiled at him. "This will be fun."

They started moving along to the waltz that was playing, Will focusing intently on not trampling Celine's feet. Usually he was a decent dancer, but he couldn't trust anything - not tonight. The ballroom was lit by an enormous crystal chandelier, lending everything a dreamlike quality. As they danced, Celine kept smiling at him - _only_ at him - and his heart would flutter. It was strange, but not unwelcome, and he certainly didn't mind the light blush that appeared on her cheeks when he smiled back.

When the song finished, Celine tugged him over to the side of the ballroom, though Will would have been happy to dance all night if she'd wanted.

"I haven't seen Damien or Mark at all," Celine said, looking around the room. She was still holding on to his arm, and it was making it hard for Will to think straight. "You did say they were here, didn't you? I'd like to at least say hello," she added with a frown.

"Oh, they're about," Will said, trying his best to hide his dismay - a selfish part of him had wanted him to have Celine all to himself tonight. The next moment, he was ashamed of himself. Of course she wanted to see her brother and her other closest friend. He had no reason or right to be getting jealous.

"I can check in the other room," his traitorous mouth offered - _I should have suggested we stay together; you're an idiot, Will_, he thought as he said it - and Celine's face lit up.

"Would you? You're brilliant, Will! I'll try to find them in here and if I can't, I'll come and find you again," she said, letting go of his arm. Will mustered up a smile and gave her a little salute as he walked reluctantly away, heading for the dining room.

He found Damien and Mark nearly instantly, chatting up some old and wealthy-looking businessmen, if those suits meant anything. Damien gave him a broad smile as he approached.

"Here's our third man," he said, gesturing to Will. "Mr. Hearst, Mr. Morgan, this is my good friend William Barnum."

"How do you do, gentlemen," Will said, sticking a smile on and shaking hands with the men.

"Will here has been one of our closest friends since birth, nearly, and has done some distinguished service in India," Mark put in, clapping Will on the shoulder.

"A pleasure," said the heavyset man with a moustache that rivalled some of the ones Will had seen on generals in the army. The other, a tall man with deep-set eyes and short brown hair, merely nodded politely.

"Now, I think my friend here is on a mission," said Damien, glancing over at Will again, "so I'm going to have to beg your leave. Gentlemen, it was a pleasure meeting with you," he said, and shook the men's hands again. Mark did the same, and then the two men walked off toward the refreshment table.

"Investors?" Will said, after he was sure they were out of earshot.

"Mr. Hearst is a great patron of film," Mark said.

"And Mr. Morgan is one of the wealthiest men in New York, though he's not usually over here in Los Angeles," Damien added.

"I see," Will said. "Good luck." He grinned.

"Where did you disappear to?" asked Mark. "You were right behind us when we came in."

"I ran into Celine," Will explained. "I haven't seen her in quite some time - we were catching up."

"Celine's here?" Mark said, looking around the room.

"Oh, yes, she mentioned she was going to be coming," Damien said at the same time.

"She sent me to try to find you - she'll be in shortly," Will said. "We can just wait here."

"All right," Mark and Damien agreed. Will fell into a sort of reverie after that; Mark and Damien were talking, but their conversation simply faded into the background. Celine had looked so lovely in the glittering light of the chandelier. And her smile, and her laugh, and her sharp wit - how had he missed it as they were growing up?

He was quite sure he'd fallen in love with her.

All of a sudden, he caught sight of her standing in the doorway, looking around the dining room with a slight frown on her face. "Celine!" he shouted, waving and not caring how many people were staring at him.

She waved back, her face lighting with another of her wonderful smiles, and began making her way through the crowd toward them.

It was then that Will happened to glance over at Mark and saw reflected in his eyes the same admiration and emotion that he was sure his own held. His stomach dropped, and he followed Mark's gaze to Celine, weaving through the party-goers.

Mark was head-over-heels for her, too.

Will's head was reeling. How could he have not noticed? He'd fallen in love with the same woman as his best friend. They shared nearly everything, but they couldn't share Celine's love.

Celine had reached them. She gave Damien a hug, telling him he needed to come home to see their mother more often ("She's ill, Damien, and I thought you wanted to be a good son?"); gave Will a special smile that he was too numb to return; and before she could do anything else, Mark had swept into his best actor's bow and kissed Celine's hand. "Don't you look lovely tonight," he said in his most charming voice (Will had heard it often - used only for directors and talking to pretty girls). Celine giggled, and Will felt a pang.

"I hope you haven't been in here talking the whole time," she said with a teasing smile. "These sort of things are for dancing, you know."

"Would you do me the honor?" Mark asked, offering her his arm. She took it, smiling.

"By all means, lead the way," she said, gesturing toward the ballroom. Damien and Will watched them go.

"I haven't seen her this carefree in a long time," Damien said. "Not since Father died."

Will made a noncommittal noise, still seeing Celine's hand tucked in Mark's arm in front of his eyes.

"Perhaps she's in love," Damien continued. Will looked over to find a piercing dark brown gaze fixed on him.

"What do you want, Damien?" he asked, folding his arms.

"Are you falling for my sister?" Damien shot back, mirroring him.

Will looked away. "I shouldn't be."

Damien's eyes softened. "Will - " he started.

"Don't," said Will. "She'd be happy with Mark, and he's head-over-heels for her anyway. Who am I to take away their happiness?" He was rationalizing now, he knew - mostly to himself.

"You would be the one to take the high road," Damien said with a small smile. He clapped Will on the shoulder. "Come on. I'll get you a drink."

-0-

Will was best man at Mark and Celine's wedding, since Damien was giving Celine away. In a way it was unlucky, he reflected, because he had to be careful not to be watching Celine too often. His years in the army had taught him to school his expressions; that wouldn't be a problem. But it wouldn't do for the best man to be caught unable to take his eyes off the bride.

She was so beautiful in white. Her brown eyes seemed to glow with happiness. Her dress was simple but elegant, the skirt falling all the way to the floor, with lace sleeves and a sheer veil that did nothing to hide her joyful smile.

On one hand, Will was happy - two of his best friends since childhood were getting married, of course he was happy for them - but on the other, he was bitterly envious, and a little angry with himself. Maybe he could have been standing at the altar, watching Celine come up the aisle, and Mark would be standing smiling in the best man's place. But he'd sacrificed his happiness for Mark's. This was a no-win scenario; there was no way for both of the friends to get a happy ending from it - it was one or the other.

Will told himself he could continue to indulge his feelings until the vows were pronounced, and then he would bury them down deep enough that they would never again see the light of day, and he would go congratulate his two best friends on their marriage.

"I do," said Celine.

There.

"I now pronounce you man and wife," the minister said, and smiled. "You may now kiss the bride." Will cheered with the rest of them as the newlyweds kissed.

The reception was held in a glittering dining room, the room full of round tables draped with long white tablecloths. Candles lit each table. At the front of the room was one long table for the bridal party; Celine and Mark sat at the center, with Damien right next to Celine and Will beside Mark.

After the food was served, Damien, who was also acting as sort of master of ceremonies, stood and motioned for everyone to be quiet.

"Words cannot express my happiness at seeing my sister and one of my best friends married," Damien began. "Fortunately, however, that isn't _my_ job. Now, it is my great pleasure to introduce to you the best man, William Barnum!"

Will stood, glass of champagne in hand, waiting for the applause to die down. "I have known Mark and Celine for a very long time," he said. "They are two of my best friends and I can't imagine anyone else that would make them as happy as they will make each other. And now - a toast!" He lifted his glass and the rest of the guests mirrored him. "To the groom!" Will cried.

"To the groom!" the guests echoed, their smiles wide.

"To the bride!" Will continued, turning toward Celine.

"To the bride!"

"From your best friend, who has always been - and always will be - by your side. To your union," Will said, raising his glass once more, "and the hope that you provide."

There was some scattered applause.

"May you _always_ be satisfied," Will finished, drinking from his glass.

The guests cheered. Will sat down. Mark clapped him on the shoulder, smiling and thanking him. Celine beamed at him. And Damien gave him a knowing look that Will was forced to turn away from, lest his mask slip.

He had wished for Mark and Celine to be satisfied. He knew they would be happy together. But since he had made the sacrifice of his own happiness, he knew _he_ would never be quite satisfied.


End file.
